


Shear

by pollitt



Series: sync your playlist with mine [2]
Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 05:24:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pollitt/pseuds/pollitt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Eugene lost his curls, how he might get them back again, and  a glimpse at how he and Jack came to Abel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shear

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired in part on the photo of Nathan Nolan (who provides the voice for Eugene) with close-cropped hair, and the idea that in the early days of Abel there might have been a rule for cutting hair short to avoid bringing in bugs/short hair is harder for zombies to grab onto/boot camp-rules.
> 
> Slightly tweaked (and hopefully cleaned up) from the original posting on tumblr.

The first thing that Eugene remembered thinking upon waking up in Abel was that his leg hurt. 

The second thing was that his head felt remarkably light and kind of cold. And despite some initial muzzley-cottony thoughts that fell into two categories--wondering if it was a different season already and thinking maybe it was whatever meds whomever had given him wherever it was that he was--it took him a relatively short amount of time to figure the why of the second. 

“Jack," he’d remembered saying, flopping his hand (because he was still pretty heavily medicated and coordination was never his best talent, even stone-cold sober) onto Jack’s sleeping head. The lack of purchase his fingers had as they slid down, over Jack’s face as he woke up confirmed Eugene’s suspicions. “What --”

“Oh thank god.” Jack had clutched Eugene’s hand in one of his own and slid his free hand over Eugene’s face. “There are words I never want to hear again, starting with -- “

“Jack.” He hated the antiseptic taste of hospital-grade medication that was in his mouth, it tasted disgusting and it made it difficult to talk. Even thinking back on that moment now, Eugene’s chest feels tight because he remembers the lost look that was on Jack’s face. After all that they’d survived -- zombies, the accident, the hospital...

“ _Jack_ ,” Eugene had said louder, cupping Jack’s jaw in his hand and tugging his face up so Eugene could look at him properly. “My hair. Your hair. What happened?”

“Your, your _hair_? Of all the questions, all of them--not where are we, not what happened, not how we got here--but your hair.” Jack had looked at him with a mix of tired disbelief and utter fondness. 

“I thought I’d start small. Move up to the bigger questions like what the hell happened.” He let his thumb slide along Jack’s temple and upward. “And if you look like a sheared sheep, I’m guessing I do, too.”

Jack laughed and leaned in to kiss him. When he pulled back, he looked forlornly at Eugene’s face, glancing up to where Eugene knew his curls were no longer. Jack had written sonnets about those curls. They weren't _good_ sonnets, mind you, and they were mostly to keep the two of them entertained as they'd been on the road. But still, Jack had been a fan.

“Sheared is a good word for it. That’s what the woman called it. Janine. She owns this place.”

And then Jack had filled him in -- about the attack on the hospital, how they’d been rescued and brought to Abel, and how Maxine had managed to turn around the infection that had set it from the less than perfect amputation of his leg. And finally, he’d had to tell Eugene about his hair, how it was Abel’s rule for all new arrivals.

“I did it, though. If anyone was going to take those away, it was going to be me.” Jack had run his fingers over the top of Eugene’s head. Eugene remembers the strange feeling of weightlessness when Jack’s fingers didn’t catch.

\-----

And since then, it’s become one of their things, an indulgence, like what a spa day was back before civilization did a belly flop. Only now instead of massages and mud baths it’s the precious use of electricity and a pair of clippers that would be worth their weight in platinum, if there was any sort of monetary system anymore.

Jack is still the only person who’s allowed to touch Eugene’s hair. Eugene’s not even sure Jack would let him cut his _own_ hair. And that's even without knowing about the infamous closet cut-and-glue back-on incident from Eugene’s childhood.

\-----

“You know if you don’t hold still, I’m liable to cut your ear off,” Jack says, curling his hand around Eugene’s shoulder and applying just the right amount of pressure.

“If you do, could you make sure it's the other one, please? I’d like to balance my amputations so they’re not all on one side, I’m unbalanced as is.” Eugene looks up at Jack with a smartass grin, but he can see maybe he’s gone a bit too far when Jack blanches. “Hey, I’m just kidding. It was in poor taste, I’m sorry.” 

“You know, you can be a real ass.” Jack’s voice is unsteady for a moment, but he recovers quickly. “But let’s be honest, even if I did drop this, the worst I’d do would be to trim some of your ear hair.”

“Hey!” Eugene laughs and pivots upward so he can stand and face Jack. One of the good things about being stuck inside for long periods of time is that he’s gotten much better about maneuvering with just one leg. “I think we can skip the haircut today. Maybe it’s time to let the old hair grow back again. ”

“Really?” Jack asks, a bit hopeful.

It’s such a small thing, a haircut interrupted. But Eugene knows it’s something else, too. It’s a memory of a time before Abel that only he can give back to Jack.

“Really.”

Besides, Eugene really misses his curls.

**Author's Note:**

> Written pre-iOS 1.4/Android 1.2 update for Radio Mode


End file.
